Turn-Key
by jenni3penny
Summary: Kibbs. "Tony could play at being a Ladies Man, a Rake or whatever it took to jovially get him through the day despite the fact that, in actuality, he was a sweet and loving and gentle man. Tony could push them together and play at the edges of this mess they've made between them. But he could not, in the end, be between them."
It'd been plain enough lately - Tony wanted her in the way that a key wants for a lock to try, regardless of a perfect fit. And it'd been plain enough since meeting the both of them that Gibbs was lock, key, and dead-bolt for her, for Tony, for the combination.

She figured some locks needed to be blown open with the use of what Gibbs himself liked to call 'superior firepower', though. So she'd kissed him harder than even she had presumed possible and she'd let Tony quietly lock the door behind all three of them.

DiNozzo's hands were obvious in being first, even while she felt the older man groan against her lips and very nearly lean closer to her. Tony was stretching up the back of her and sloping his distinctly softer palms over her shoulders, wiping down her back, curving her waist as he lined up along the back of her and stilled. He was planted immobile, a sure anchor as he kept her tightly blocked into Gibbs's personal space.

He kept them together and not just in this.

He was a fine investigator on his own, she could admit that. He hadn't needed Jethro Gibbs' training nor attention to realize that she... she had a crush on her boss (she wanted to devour her boss).

He kept her off balance and off kilter with his teasing and taunting but the reality was that he honed her self awareness and kept her acutely aware of men (both him and Gibbs) at all times.

She'd admit to being attracted to both of them if she were pressed.

But Tony was her confidant.

And Gibbs was... generally... what she assumed was an unwilling accomplice to her infatuation.

He didn't do whatever it was that made her want him intentionally but, Jesus... he did enough.

"Don't let him run this time, Kate." Tony's voice was solid and time-stopped-still at her back. And she realized maybe she'd needed him to anchor the both of them in this, with his purred whisper along the side of her head. Maybe she was terrified to realize that he'd figured that out first, before either of them, before they'd even stopped kissing and their lips had rubbed apart for a combined gasp of oxygen. "You want 'im? Keep him."

A defensively gritty look lifted proud blue eyes over her face and then above her shoulder and she could only see half of the silent conversation but, God, it was the only half she needed to see and it was both terrifying and electrified at once. She wasn't sure if he was being defensive of himself or of her. Wasn't sure if he was offended by Tony's implication or just annoyed by the interruption.

Actually... she wasn't entirely sure it was really defensive at all.

Because Tony may have been the anchor, the still hold in whatever shit-storm-quagmire they were creating of the moment ( _'this moment brought to you by the letters of Leroy Jethro and the number three'_ ). But the rising emotion in Gibbs' eyes when he turned back on her wasn't actually defensive, nor was it all that proud.

It was, if she were to really try and extrapolate, definitively... possessive.

Especially when his hands surpassed DiNozzo's in heat and control as he cradled her jaw into both broad palms and turned that scrutiny and possession over her face. His touch was locking her up, keeping her head up so that she had to blink if she wanted to get away from those eyes.

She didn't blink.

She wanted to rub herself down in the prettiness of that color.

"You wanna keep me, Kate?"

She licked the leftover bourbon tint from her lips, tasting it on her tongue from his kiss. There was still a hint of it on his breath but, surely, not enough that he'd be drunk. None of them, as they'd wallowed into their glasses, had had enough alcohol to warrant whatever the hell was going on. They'd bitched and moaned about losing their case to the CIA's higher rank in the Federal circus – but he'd only taken a few swallows. He had, instead, kept his hand curled around his glass while mostly silently staring her down across the table as Tony muttered annoyance over his untouched beer. His quietness hadn't been all that surprising, it had been expected and normal. However, the intensity of his stare was an event that tended to repeat when he retreated into himself and started an internal investigation of some sort. The fact that he had barely drawn his eyes from her the entire time led her to assume that she was the prime target of that particular investigation.

"Do you?" he urged at her with a surprising softness, lifting his jaw with a tip to his tone that nearly said he wanted to actually know the answer more than he just wanted to poke or prod at her. "Caitlin?"

Oh, Christ... When had full first names entered the situation?

And why did he seem so very interested in what she actually wanted? Well, besides the oh-so-very obvious...

Unless he wanted something similar and moreso than she'd presumed?

His questioning had her lungs shivering for air as his thumb rubbed her bottom lip and Tony's hands closed tighter along her ribs to spur her on.

His questioning was maybe the most surprising thing about the entire situation. Because it implied that he was far more aware of her and every nuance of her wanting than she'd previously figured.

Regardless... she wanted him still. Maybe more. "Yes."

His brows lifted a little in what seemed like genuine pleasure and unguarded surprise. "And here I thought you were an intelligent woman."

She felt a pang of childish little hurt touch over her lips but it faded off as he rubbed it away with the pad of his thumb and shook his head at her gently. "Gibbs."

"What?" He smiled, not smug or mischievous, not the usual charm either.

He smiled like she was treasured.

At least just before he laid his mouth back against hers and dug his hands up into her hair and made it obvious to all three of them who was the actual anchor and who had always had control.

* * *

"I'd just like to point out that a threesome was so _not_ my idea." He was still at her back as she moaned off the end of another Gibbsian kiss that had, in all honesty, pretty much melted her insides. "I'd like it on the record that I didn't actually have anything - "

Tony's grunt panted against her ear as her elbow landed into his ribs and the hand at the opposite side of her gripped up in her hair in reaction as she smugly smirked.

"Not nice, Kate." Tony murmured as he rubbed his face down the curve of her neck to her shoulder, letting his nose wipe along bared skin.

"She's allowed to defend herself." Gibbs whispered it along the top of one breast as he intently watched the way Tony tipped her bra strap down, catching it from the other agent and drawing it lower as he let his tongue rake skin. "She's earned it."

They'd managed to get her shirt off her before she'd even realized they were stepping her down the hall and the sudden realization that she was about to be the most half naked person in the room while the both of them were still suited and professional and... well, it was damn unfair. "This is - "

"Insane?" DiNozzo's voice chirped louder than expected along her left ear.

She had one hand back and curled against Tony's neck, using the height and strength of him as ballast against how weakly she was running the other hand against the back of Gibbs' head, her lungs stuttering under open mouthed kisses, her legs not as sure as they had been. "Unfair, actually. I feel like a buffet table, boys."

Gibbs made a shrug that said he was hearing her, but he wasn't necessarily all that interested in what she'd said. Seemed he was much more interested in her skin as Tony's fingers deftly flicked open the hooks of her bra and he drew enough fabric down to study one of her breasts with a groaned appreciation. "It's all you're gonna get until I say so."

She merely sighed into his quick and unbreachable assertion. He was so set in his ways, there was no point in arguing when he'd acquired a target. And he seemed pretty fixated on her breasts as he let his body sink onto her mattress, sitting on the edge of it like he'd been there before, like it was a place he rested when he needed quiet comfort. His smile, when he looked up, was ridiculously cocky and she rolled her eyes at him. She never could keep from unconsciously matching that often enigmatic smirk.

"Kate." His fingers caught against where she'd been stroking the fabric of his shirt along his shoulder and tugged. "C'mere."

She realized that, really, she had two options when it came to how close he suddenly wanted her.

She could force his knees apart and stay standing with her best friend at her back.

Or she could crawl into his lap and forget the rest of the world existed awhile.

Each option was equally enticing.

Each option was equally terrifying.

The tipping of his head and the thinning of his eyes said that he somehow knew she was stuck between wanting and knowing and clearly hadn't considered all the ramifications before she'd somehow enticed the both of them to walk her the four and a half blocks home from the bar.

"Tony." He lifted her fingers, kissing her palm as before he jerked his head to the side. "Sit."

Leave it to him to save her from the decision, to completely solve her confusion with a solution that could have/would have entered her head had she actually been coherent.

Her back went chilled suddenly at the loss of the younger man, a whimper in her throat as DiNozzo shifted away from her and gamely plopped onto the mattress beside the older man. He was grinning that stupid goofy grin of his as he watched her concern, obviously amused as he studied how self conscious she suddenly felt and undoubtedly looked. Stupid jackass. So much for best friends. So much for being an unspoken team in this – he'd damn well just switched sides.

But then, she shoulda know that would happen eventually.

Because, in reality, Gibbs was better than a best friend.

He was Gibbs, and he was unfailingly loyal when he loved (and regardless of the fact that this was, in actuality, probably just a whole lotta lust going on – he did love them, in some way).

Therefore... well, she probably would have done the same damn thing had the situation been turned round on her.

"Kate." Gibbs laced her fingers tighter into his own, jerking her attention back as his voice softened her name and made it his. "C'mere."

She fell in line as quickly as if he'd just told her to grab her gear or get photos or sketch something out for him. It wasn't conscious, it was just reactionary – and especially when he'd said it so gently assured. He'd said it like she was his responsibility and his hands cared for her even as he pulled away from her fingers and grasped up the fabric of her skirt, shifting it up as he angled her into his lap and tugged her weight down into his thighs.

He nodded as he kissed against the side of her head and while maybe she'd just assumed it was in silent support of her submission, it seemed it was actually some sort of permission. Because then she had to squeeze her eyes shut as four hands dragged her across two laps and leaned her deeper into the center of his chest. One of his arms was bridging her back, keeping her upright as his hand caught along the side of her head. The other hand crossed over her lap to finish sliding her bra from her without even needing permission to do so. And then Tony's hands were along her legs, her hips, both of them shifting fabric farther as he found the lace of her underwear. He was fiddling appreciatively against it as Gibbs found her breasts again and started stroking against them slowly with one full and capable palm. She could barely lift her head already and they were just touching her while she still had half her clothes on.

Sweet Christ, it was gonna be a long night...

"Shhh." Gibbs shushed the sound kissing along her jaw. "You're fine."

"Mmm." She nodded an eyes shut agreement as she curled her fingers along his jaw, knuckling the stubble and leaning her head closer to his. "More than."

"You're shivering, Kate." Tony's voice was obviously wrapped around a grin and she unconsciously smiled back into it.

"Don't be smug."

"Sorta can't help it," he responded brightly, his fingers rubbing a tease against the crotch of her underwear. "Seein' you like this would make the Pope pretty damn smug."

"Don't," she laughed a breath through the argument, sucking down oxygen as he teased the edge of her underwear and watched her lashes flutter in reaction, "mention the Pope."

"DiNozzo." Gibbs' voice was stern and it drew her eyes open as she lifted her head into watching his profile, sighing into how slowly he was rolling one of her nipples between his fingers. "If you can't behave yourself - "

"Sorry, Boss." He cheeked a grin in her direction again, digging his fingers under fabric and matching the hard swallow she made as he slicked against wetness with a tempered smile. "I'm a saint from here out, I swear."

* * *

She watched his eyes, watched the brilliance of their color and the way surprised affection and a sort of doting lived in them as he tucked her up the front of him with sure hands. He shifted her as though she had asked him to control the muscles of her body with his hands and, for once, she didn't care about looking or feeling stupid in front of him. Because he was so obviously reverent in the way he was studying her, so gentle in his movements as he turned the both of them toward each other and made sure her head was curled against his bent up elbow. He drew her thigh up onto his hip, a subtle pleasure flaring in his eyes as she unconsciously cuddled up into the movement and tucked closer. His hips bucked into hers, face still mostly passive as he waited out the possibilities of her reactions.

"Relax." His murmuring near startled her, broke her from just enjoying the sensations of being completely pressed into the front of him, feeling the stacked strength of his entire length. "Just you and me, Katie."

"But - "

Right... she _had_ heard the door and peripherally noted an absence.

Somewhere back in her entangled instincts and the memory of a chill that had taken over her back as cool air had replaced sweated fabric.

Two (different but similarly confident) hands had brought her to coming but, Christ, it had been Jethro Gibbs' palm flattening on the side of her head as he'd kissed her, taking her moaning into his mouth as she'd shivered and he'd tangled his fingers up in her hair.

And both of them may have tipped her back onto her own mattress, sweetly and more gently than she'd expected, but it had been Gibbs she'd slumped exhausted into, it'd been Gibbs to wipe her hair off her face, it had been Leroy Jethro Gibbs who had grinned so wildly at her that she thought maybe he'd been replaced by some sort of impostor.

 _That_ was when she'd unconsciously heard the door.

And that's when he had so assuredly tugged her entirely up the front of him, so possessively curled her up as a delicate charm that belonged, _completely_ , to him.

She noted, somewhere in a corner of her brain that still reacted to situations like a trained investigator should, that he had been guiding each moment of the situation with solid hands and mostly silent instruction. He'd let Tony touch her, kiss her, tease her – always from a distance, though. Not a physical distance but one that kept them from actually connecting emotionally, from smiling at each other or even possibly just sharing this affection that seemed to belong solely to him. He hadn't once let the two of them so intimately watch each other because he'd always been making sure that her eyes were on his, that when she was able to keep some semblance of coherence, that he had been the one holding her attention. Holding her. Holding everything in a definitive grip of possession.

She tucked her head down into the way he was pressing her up into his chest. "Sorta feel bad."

But feeling bad didn't necessarily stop her from finding the buttons of his shirt and teasing them open with gently made movements.

Nor did it stop him from groaning appreciative assent as he repetitively stroked one slightly calloused palm up and down the curve of her lower rib cage.

"He knew." His voice was rumbling quiet, a whisper near remorse as his hand lifted to stroke her hair back again, his eyes searching over her face slowly. "He knows, Kate."

Who she really belonged to – that was the inference. That DiNozzo knew who held her.

Tony could play at being a Ladies Man, a Rake or whatever it took to jovially get him through the day despite the fact that, in actuality, he was a sweet and loving and gentle man.

Tony could push them together and play at the edges of this mess they've made between them.

But he could not, in the end, be between them.

And while she would usually balk at the concept of 'belonging' to any man in particular...

"I'm yours?" she asked into the descent of his his lips, letting him kiss after the question even as she shoved his shirt open and stroked searching fingers up under the white tee.

"Yeah, Kate." Lock and key, turn and click, the thunking sound that's made when the tumblers fall open entirely. It's all she really heard in the loving of his voice, the surety and control. "You are."


End file.
